Beautifully clouded thoughts
I worked last night so I could spend today job-hunting. I feel like it's the biggest shot to my self-esteem.
Will you hire me?
Will you hire me?
Will you hire me? PLEASE?
I don't even care anymore. But will you hire me anyway?
Whatever job I (hopefully) get, I'll have to leave in four months anyway. Please, please...
call me. interview me. train me. schedule me. pay me. let me go.
I want to go running. I want to finish my scrapbook. I want to play the guitar. I want to continue the grad school search. I want to cook for my boyfriend.
I want to stop dreaming about burned corpses. I want to stop fearing sleep, fearing daydreaming, fearing TB and pediatric arrest. I want to just... leave.
T minus four months until the end of this depressive funk.
Love,
Anna
Will you hire me?
Will you hire me?
Will you hire me? PLEASE?
I don't even care anymore. But will you hire me anyway?
Whatever job I (hopefully) get, I'll have to leave in four months anyway. Please, please...
call me. interview me. train me. schedule me. pay me. let me go.
I want to go running. I want to finish my scrapbook. I want to play the guitar. I want to continue the grad school search. I want to cook for my boyfriend.
I want to stop dreaming about burned corpses. I want to stop fearing sleep, fearing daydreaming, fearing TB and pediatric arrest. I want to just... leave.
T minus four months until the end of this depressive funk.
Love,
Anna